Fireworks
by ShadowWolf's Fables
Summary: Jethro and Tony are celebrating the Fourth of July, but will Jethro's problem put a damper on the holiday spirit? Established relationship.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm back! I know I haven't written anything in a while, but I have lots of new plot bunnies to explore. So this story is under the premise that Gibbs actually has PTSD and the show just hasn't bothered to acknowledge it. I'm also posting under ShadowWolfsDen on Ao3 so check it out.

* * *

June was a hard month for the members of the MCRT. Hostage situations, explosions, you name it, it happened. Now they were sitting in the bullpen finishing up paperwork. They had just received word that they had gotten the next few days off for the Fourth of July. Balboa's team was going to pick up the slack for once.

McGee was ready for a break. The last few weeks had left him drained. The computer work was nonstop central and now he was finally free to rest his brain for a while.

Bishop was happy to get a few days off. Her relationship with her husband Jake was on the rocks at the moment. Well, not the rocks per say, but it was getting to that point. A few days in each others' arms would hopefully fix that.

Ducky was also happy to be free from the arms of death for a little while. Mr. Palmer had already taken the week off to be with his family. The good doctor was hoping to tour the Botanical Gardens this summer but never had the time to do it.

Abby had been swamped also from the trace evidence that had come in. She was kinda sorta thinking that she should bring in an assistant for a while to help out.

Tony was relieved to be free from the office for a few days. He missed his time with his man, just cuddling in his arms with an ear to the deep chest listening to his strong heart beating. Jethro's scent would surround him in a cloud of safety and protection, enabling him to sleep comfortably. Tony wondered what they were going to do for the Fourth. Jethro never said. It wouldn't hurt to create a little fireworks show of their own under the covers.

The only one who wasn't showing any enthusiasm for the upcoming holiday was Gibbs. Of course he was okay with the days off, but he knew his boy wanted to do something for the holiday. He just didn't have the heart to tell him that he couldn't celebrate this particular holiday along with New Year's.

As he was trying to come up with a good excuse while typing up his final reports, the elevator dinged. The clomping of three inch platforms gave away who the newest arrival to the floor was.

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" was heard before a black whirlwind plowed into Gibbs's workspace. He felt the bear hug rub his ribs together. He was irritated that he couldn't breathe, but he would never tell the lab rat that.

"Hey Abs."

She let go of him and plopped down on his desk, right on top of some much required paperwork. "Whatcha doing?" she drawled.

"Working." he rebuffed.

She looked around the bullpen, her pigtails bopping back and forth. "So what are you guys doing for the holiday?"

"I'm going to stay home and sleep," said McGee as he was typing at his regular break-knuckle speed.

"Jake and I are going camping this weekend."

Abby saw where Tony hadn't replied. "And what are you doing for the holiday, Tony?" She sidled over to his corner of the bullpen where he was steadfastly reading part of a partially completed report from a fellow agent that needed to go in the casefile.

Tony looked up with a devilish smirk on his face. "I will be saluting the men and women of the armed forces down at the pub on 8th all night long. Maybe find some hot chick to create some sparks."

Jethro inwardly smirked. He knew Tony was creative with his escapades while hiding their relationship. They weren't hiding per say, just when you've been in a relationship for so long it's just normal for them to not show their feelings in public, especially in public. It made Jethro feel a little more guilt at not telling his partner of eight years about his problem.

"Anyone want to see the fireworks show tomorrow night?" Abby asked.

There were agreements all around, but a definite no from Gibbs.

"Gibbs!" she complained. "Why won't you go with us? You have to get out of your basement more..."

At that moment something snapped in Gibbs. His eyes narrowed, revealing more of his irritation and anger than he should have. Abby sounded just like his exes, all harsh and demanding. He was thankful Tony didn't complain much, but when he did it was always playful, not cold or mean. He didn't want to hurt Abby's feelings, but God forbid, there was no other way to get through to her.

"Abigail!" he barked, making several heads turn towards the main bullpen. That was the tone of voice that raw Marine recruits trembled from. Tony, McGee, and Bishop unconsciously turned towards their boss at attention while sitting.

Abby turned to him with the puppy eyes that everyone claimed he always fell for. It was all part of the act. He wasn't falling for it this time.

"No, I will not go and you will not say anything more." He gave her the stare.

"Yes, Gibbs." She turned her head away so she wouldn't have to look into the ice blue eyes of a man she swore could see into someone's soul.

Tony looked at his partner in silent confusion. Sure Jethro wasn't for going out with the team sometimes, it was only the more extreme outings he objected to. What was different about this one? He'd ask Jethro about it later when they were alone.

Gibbs looked at the clock. 1500. That was a good time as any considering all the work they had done.

"Reports better be finished before you leave," he said as he got up to stretch his legs.

All three team members including Abby watched as he walked to the elevator. They assumed he went for his last fix of the day.

Abby got this worried look on her face. "Guys, what just happened? He's never like that with me." She wrapped her arms around  
herself in a self hug.

"Don't worry Abby, maybe he's just in a bad mood," suggested McGee.

"I wouldn't call it a bad mood." Bishop mused.

Abby looked confused. "What else could it be?"

Bishop chewed on that thought while munching on some new curly fry Cheetos. "He's been mostly mellow all day today, even though we are working on paperwork."

"Your point being?"

"All I'm saying is that his attitude turned from mellow to sour when you came up Abby."

"But I didn't do anything wrong! I just asked about going out as a team when we don't do it very often..."

"Abby, I think that's the point."

Until then Tony had been following the conversation silently. For all the years he had been Gibbs's SFA then lover, he had learned how to read the subliminal messages that Gibbs gave off. For a man who doesn't talk much, it was pretty much the only way he could communicate without starting a full blown fight. So Tony had been the only one to notice when Jethro's shoulders tensed and his breathing got deeper. Signs of anger or a fleeting thought of frustration. He saw how Jethro drew himself back from the brink without going into a full blown rage. Something triggered it. But what?

"Tony?" The team turned to look at him.

Used to being in the spotlight, Tony said, "Abs, I hate to burst your little Goth bubble, but I believe you were pressuring him to do something that he didn't want to do."

Abby looked down right contrite. "But..."

Tony held up a finger. "I'm not finished. Something you said made him angry. I don't know why. I don't know how, but you better think about what you said before you see Gibbs again. Understand?"

Abby looked down. She really didn't mean to. She just wanted to spend time with the team out of the office. She had to make it up to Gibbs somehow. "Yes Tony."

"Good. Now go back to your lab and see you tomorrow Abby."

"Bye guys." She walked back to the elevator with her tail between her legs.

McGee and Bishop went back to their work. They knew when to pick their battles and this wasn't one of them.

About an hour later, the team finished the paperwork required and packed up to go home. Tony slipped a post-it note on his paperwork for Jethro to let him know he was going to the apartment for the evening and that he would see him later. The team left just before the Beta shift came on duty for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Gibbs's POV, we'll get to Tony in the next chapter. Part 3 coming soon.

Warning: depressing thought of suicide and past mentions of self harm.

* * *

The air was surprisingly cool in the middle of the quad on the Navy base. The park where he was sitting in was a good a place as any to sit and think or shoot the breeze with your friends and your family. Like he had any of those left.

Sipping his coffee, he gave off the image of a middle aged man people watching while on a coffee break. To those who knew him from the military, he was on guard, always hyper-vigilant. It was a habit he couldn't break when he came home from overseas and he had accepted that it wasn't going away anytime soon.

While he sat there, absorbed in his thoughts, he thought about the past. Thinking about the past usually put him in a depressive mood only cured with booze and quiet sanding in the basement. He thought about what caused him to be this way.

He guessed that it was inevitable. The nightmares, sometimes night terrors, waking up in a cold sweat breathing harshly trying to get oxygen back into his deprived lungs was too much to handle sometimes. Then there would be the delusions that he was back in the desert and he would take his coat off in twenty degree weather because he thought it was over one hundred.

Jethro slowly reached up to rub a hand over sternum close to his heart. An echo of an old pain shot through his chest when he thought of those nights after his first deployment. He had been young, married to Shannon at the time. He had gone to sleep one night and had woken up to Shannon screaming at him to stop. He had froze and focused on what he was doing. He had his left hand wrapped around her throat and his KBAR in his right ready to use it if necessary. He didn't know how the knife had gotten in the bed with him. One look at Shannon's face though, seeing the fear in her eyes, fear because she was afraid of him made him run into the bathroom and throw up. He heaved his guts up so bad that night he thought he would get an ulcer.

That was the night he cut himself for the first time.

Jethro had slept on the couch for the next month or so until Shannon dragged his ass back to bed and forgave him. He swore it would never happen again. It would be a promise he kept for the next thirty years.

By this time, Jethro had finished his coffee and reflected on his little girl, Kelly. His precious angel.

He had been deployed when Shannon had found out she was pregnant so he had basically missed the entire pregnancy. The doctor's appointments, the baby kicking, his wife glowing, and the birth. He missed it all and he would never get it back. When he came home that time, he was hit with culture shock because he couldn't comprehend that the three month old baby in his wife's arms was his.

For a while he had refused to hold Kelly because he had the silent fear that he would hurt her if he ever had one of his "episodes". He was left to sink or swim when Shannon had decided to go shopping on her own and left Kelly with him. It was a learning experience. Shannon had come home later that evening to him and Kelly asleep in the rocking chair and when she tried to take her from his arms, she had gotten a gun in her face in return. He admitted only to himself that he didn't feel like a good dad to Kelly because he was only the man that made her mama cry when he left.

One of his strongest memories was the last time he saw his girls and Kelly pleading for him to not go. It would be the subject of his nightmares for the next five or so years until it resurfaced after the second coma. He had so much guilt on top of survivor's guilt and the nightmares that it was a wonder that he hadn't killed himself on the beach. That would be the second time he cut himself.

Marrying Diane was probably one of the stupidest mistakes he had ever made. Yes, he was drunk when he proposed. It was a bad time in his life, he had been alone for up to three years by then and he figured if he met a nice woman and married her, then she would stay with him. He thought wrong. Diane had decided to quit her job at the time and it was on him to bring home the bacon. So he worked more hours to get the pay needed to provide for her like a good husband should. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. She complained when he didn't come home to spend time with her enough and hell, she complained when he wouldn't have sex with her. How could he when he had just gotten off a sixteen hour shift working a fucking crime scene in the goddamn rain? When they did have sex, the put downs got worse. The most harsh was that his dick was too damn big. It was a low blow to his already crumbling ego so for the rest of their marriage he did his husbandly duty then got the hell out before she could say anything while coming down from her orgasm high.

He wound up sleeping on the couch for a majority of their marriage. When she asked for kids, he shut her out and shut down. He didn't talk to her for a while. So he was taken by surprise when she whapped him in the head with the golf club knocking him out and ripped him off. She didn't get away with much because he had little in the bank from being a junior agent and her spending it. What money he did have he had stashed around the house in places she would never look. He should have had her arrested for assault of a federal officer, domestic violence (if possible), domestic (spousal) abuse (verbal abuse didn't really count at the time even though she used Shannon and Kelly against him to get what she wanted), but he didn't because 1)she knocked him out from behind and he had felt so stupid for letting his guard down, 2)he was embarrassed and 3)he felt he deserved it. When he signed the divorce papers, that was the night he cut himself for the third time.

Jethro came up from his memories long enough to register his surroundings. It seemed he was the only one in the area. Good, he could have some peace and quiet for a little while longer.

He reached into his coat pocket to grab his phone. He flipped it open to see if there were any messages for him. There weren't any. He checked the time. 1600. He could stay for an hour or so more. He trusted Tony to lead for a while even if they were only doing paperwork.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair. At his age, it was almost all the way a silvery gray with some dark gray in the back. His hair was left long on top parted down the middle similar to the high and tight from when he was back in the Marines. The only difference was from then to present day was that the sides and back were left at a half an inch in length. He knew that most of his colleagues thought that his haircut was weird and awful but he had an ulterior motive for fixing it that way. He used the fingers of his right hand to find what he wanted on the back of his head. There, he found it. On the occipital lobe there was currently a cacophony of scars criss-crossing the back of his head from the injuries he sustained over the years. He kept his hair long because he didn't want anyone to freak out when they saw them and to keep them from asking a bunch of stupid questions that he would never be in the mood to answer. On the left side of the lobe next to his ear was the scar from Diane and on the right was the scar from Stephanie.

Keeping with the order of his memories, he focused on his second ex, Rebecca. They had met at a bar of course. She seemed nice and eventually they ended up in bed together. Typical. He knew she had come from a somewhat wealthy family and they had married about six months after meeting. Mike Franks had retired at the time and Jethro was left with no team. He had volunteered to go on Black Ops missions instead in Europe and used the cover of Agent Afloat the USS Ronald Regan. He never realized that Rebecca's drinking had gotten worse until he came home to find her in bed with that scumbag lawyer of hers. And she had the gall to use him as her attorney in the divorce proceedings. The divorce was finalized a month or so after Jethro had caught Kyle Boone, his first high profile case as a lead agent instead of being in the shadows of the Fed Five as a probie. Ducky actually accused him of not spending enough time with Rebecca and that it was his obsession that led to the failure of the marriage. He didn't bother to tell him about the affair. It wasn't worth it.

He wasn't even going to start on Jenny even if she wasn't an ex wife. His memories were still fuzzy on some of the details from the op in Eastern Europe. There were just some things that he would rather forget than relive. He would always remember that she was great undercover, but always hot and cold with him when they were stateside. After she had left him behind in Paris to further her own career, Ducky had introduced him Stephanie. It was too soon after Jenny and he guessed he was just a glutton for punishment. So he married her. He was deployed on an op in Moscow and Stephanie went with him. He had crossed paths with Jenny again and saved Callen's ass all while fulfilling his mission. Their marriage lasted a year and a half. He knew she wanted to have kids and was feeling envious because her sister in Philly had a hoard of them. He couldn't do it. At least they had parted on somewhat civil terms after she came at him with a bat.

Sweat trickled down his face from the heat. It was made worse because he was wearing a sport coat. He didn't care as long as the scars on his arms were covered. He grimaced at the phantom pain he felt and had to calm his breathing because he knew that in reality the pain wasn't there, but his mind did not know that. Rubbing the arm up and down, he resolved to finish his reminiscing so he could return to the office with a clear head.

October 2001. Baltimore.

Jethro had grown out his hair while in Moscow and didn't have time to cut it before he was assigned a money laundering case that lead him to go undercover in Baltimore. He thought he was doing pretty well too for being fresh from a Black Op until he got spotted by those detectives. He had to think on his feet and took off running. He decided to get arrested to build street cred, but he could have run faster than that. He wasn't the fastest in his graduating class at boot camp for nothing.

The detective at the time, DiNozzo, was all brash and just out there in your face. Jethro could see behind that and found that beyond the playboy was a decent man. A man that could one day be a great agent.

He rolled with that thought and brought the man to NCIS and the rest was history.

Thinking back, Jethro didn't remember when he thought there could have been something more than friendship between them. It could have been after Kate died. It could have been after Jethro got back from Mexico. Hell, he didn't know. What he did know was that he felt calmer in the man's presence. Like Tony had held the rage back from taking over his being. After Tony's first year, what everyone didn't know was that the two men had begun to hang out after work. It was like a weekly thing between them until Kate came along. They didn't spend much time together like they used to building their friendship.

The relationship that had been halted progressed towards a more intimate relationship when Tony had the plague. Jethro remembered the anger he felt at the time and thought he was going to loose it in another "episode", but he fought its hold on him until he could get to Tony. He remembered blue lights making Tony look like death warmed over, but he felt such sweet relief that his lifeline, his Tony, was still alive. When he went home that night, he threw himself on his bed and cried himself to sleep for the first time since he was a kid. The peaceful sleep brought on by the emotional release took a dark and twisted turn into one of the worst night terrors he had ever had. He woke up covered in sweat and a sore throat from yelling. He knew he had come close to pissing himself that night. He knew blue lights would become a trigger from then on.

Jethro had gone back to the hospital and taken care of everything for Tony so he wouldn't have had anything to worry about. He had even stayed with him in his apartment taking care of him. He would have denied that he was clingy at the time because Marines don't cling. He would admit that Tony was the only thing that could calm him down.

Jethro looked down at his hands. They were beginning to shake again. He guessed his body was reacting to the memories because of what happened next.

Kate dying right in front of them. A bullet hole in the center of her forehead. Blood covering Tony's face. The smell of blood and gunpowder hanging in the air. Shock at what the fuck had just happened and relief that it wasn't Tony. The rest of the day was a blur, but it went regular speed again when Ari had shot at Abby. He remembered adrenalin running through his veins, rage coming at the forefront ready to lash out on a hair trigger. Especially at bureaucratic assholes who hide behind their superiors while trying to save their asses. They were too scared to face a little ole gunny who knew the truth all along.

After Ari had been disposed of and Kate's funeral was over, Jethro found Tony at a bar and took him home. They had grieved in each other's arms for the next few days.

The second coma was the next road bump in their relationship. When he had woken up, Jethro was confused and a little scared. Those doctors kept asking him rapid fire questions and he couldn't answer them without ripping someone's throat out in retaliation. He had just wanted everything to go away. Jenny had kept hounding him for information he knew he had and everyone wanted him to remember them. It was just too much. He remembered Tony coming in the room and just sitting there, saying nothing, just being there and holding his hand while he sorted through his memories and grieved for a second time. He didn't remember who Tony was at the time, but his calming presence was the only thing keeping the wolves at bay.

When he finally did remember what he was supposed to know, it was too late. Nineteen dead and the attack covered up just to save face. He knew running away was the coward's way out, but it was the only thing he could do to counteract the anger and disgust at the higher ups. he just couldn't do it anymore.

When he was packing up that night to head to Mexico, Tony had stopped by to help him pack. They didn't say a word to each other until it was time for him to leave for the airport. They were standing on the porch, door locked and bags at Jethro's feet, waiting for the cab. He had turned and grabbed Tony into a crushing body hug, taking the younger man by surprise.

"I'm sorry." he whispered into the man's neck.

Tony hugged him back. "Don't be. Do what you got to do to come back."

Fast forward a secret undercover operation that left Tony a train wreck and Jethro was able to pick up the pieces again. He had taken Tony someplace safe away from busybody coworkers, the CIA, the FBI, and Jeanne. They had wound up cuddled up in bed again, their go to method of comfort whenever one or the other was feeling out of sorts. The exploding car on the screen became another trigger.

When Jenny died and Tony was Agent Afloat, Jethro had lost his lifeline to sanity. He had three new members to train and a forensic scientist who would not stop hounding him to get his agents back. He nearly blew a gasket that time. The nightmares had come roaring back only Tony was the center of them. They were mostly of him getting killed in the crossfire. When Tony came home from Caracas, Jethro took him back to his place and mumbled something along the lines of not getting enough sleep while making sure Tony was comfortable.

The first time they had sex wasn't until after Somalia. It was messy and dirty with the desert sand still in some places, but it was a release needed to make them believe they were both alive. That started their physical relationship.

They soon became a couple with the pretense of being open ended because they knew there would be times they would have to sleep with people for information. EJ Barrett and Samantha Ryan came to mind.

The next couple of years came with a terrorist bombing and cartel revenge with a side of an investigation by the DoD. Whoopee.

After the loss of Ziva and his father, Jethro felt better about his relationship because they had decided to become exclusive. No more worrying about if Tony wanted to back out. But with the holiday the next day, Jethro was a little apprehensive about what would happen when he finally told Tony his biggest secret, his secret shame.

The sun was starting to set over the park leaving behind rays of gold and red. Jethro looked down at his watch for the time. 1700. He'd waited long enough. He got up from the bench, stretched his legs, breathed a sigh, and walked back to the office. Time for more coffee, report reading, and waiting for his world to crumble all around him.


	3. Chapter 3

O'Malley's Pub was a great place to go to after work. If you didn't want to cook or order takeout all the time the pub offered the best gourmet cooking that side of the Potomac. The atmosphere was a fantastic place to take a date or your family. There was a wide selection of alcohol, many types of beer included on tap. Stain glass windows covered the outside of the pub preventing anyone from looking in. Pool tables were in the back by the jukebox while the plasma screen tvs were off to the side of the pub so the sports enthusiasts wouldn't disturb the other diners. There was also a no smoking policy. One of the reasons why Tony loved coming here to this little pub away from Ireland about 15 minutes from his apartment.

Jethro had let them out relatively early for them so when the agents had split in the parking garage to go their separate ways, Tony had realized that since Jethro obviously needed time to himself for now that he'd just get a good sourdough burger and fries with some beers for his dinner. It wasn't the first time he had eaten alone.

At O'Malley's, you had the option of eating at the bar, a booth, or a table in the middle of the pub. Whenever Tony came to eat alone, he would take a private booth in the back facing the door. Why he picked that spot he guessed that Jethro had been rubbing off on him.

The waitress knew him by name so he was given a beer when he sat down. He looked around the establishment and took note of how many patrons were there. It wasn't the dinner and being a Friday, the place would be packed before 9.

Since he wasn't seeing Jethro the evening, he tried to decide what he was doing when he went home. There was laundry, cleaning Kate's bowl, fixing his lunches for the week to put in the freezer, and maybe watch those Oscar nominated films he had been meaning to get to.

The waitress came back with his food and with a smile she left. If his teammates had been with him they would have been shocked that he had not flirted with the gorgeous woman. After being hurt so many times in the past by women, he figured that he had reached that point in his life that he should just give up on the opposite sex. He had Jethro now.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs. A man with a sense of honor that didn't always agree with the higher ups. A self proclaimed bastard who built boats in his basement. A hard-ass when giving orders to his team and taking his place on the front lines. A master interrogator with the skillset in psychological intimidation and hates technology.

But Tony never saw him as that. He sees him a father, a husband, a Marine. A broken man who compartmentalized his anguish and used it as his driving force to give justice to those without a voice. A man who wasn't afraid to go toe to toe with the members of Congress and the armed forces. He sees a wounded man who never leaves a man behind and probably never got the welcome home all service members do. He sees a man who sacrificed his sanity for his country and is slowly suffering for it.

As he ate his meal, he didn't hear the squeak of the wheelchair until it was right next to him.

"Hey, Tony."

He turned around at the voice. He grinned. "Hey, Wheels. How you been?"

Delilah Fielding was McGee's girlfriend and had been injured in the bomb blast that Parsa had ordered. She was now paralyzed from the waist down and stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

She grinned. "I am officially out of rehab and ready to move on with my life."

"That's good. I'm really happy for you." He hugged her. When he pulled back, he looked her in the eye. "Now how are you really doing?"

Delilah sighed. She didn't know what it was about Tony that made her want to spill all her secrets to, but he was like the brother she didn't have. She loved Tim and knew that their friendship bothered him, but Tony was the only one she could go to for non-judgmental advice and subservient "girl talk".

"It sucks, Tony. It really does. Sometimes I'm feeling good and getting ready to get on with my life and then the next second I'm so depressed that I can't get out of bed."

"And you don't want to worry Tim."

"Exactly! When I was in the hospital, he was all sweet and caring. That was great for a while, but then it got to be to much. You, know?"

He nodded for her to continue.

"But then the nightmares started, leaving me drained and exhausted in the mornings. They're getting better, but it's driving me and Tim apart because he doesn't understand. I snapped at him the other day for no reason and I feel awful about that. So what do I do?"

Tony had been listening to her, gathering his thoughts as she spoke. This situation sounded familiar, but he didn't know why.

"Have you spoken to your therapist about this?"

Initially Rachel Cranston was counseling her, but due to her status as a retainer for NCIS, she couldn't continue to treat her. So she had given Delilah a list of competent therapists and counselors that dealt in situations like this so now she was seeing a Dr. Melinda Shroeder who had ties to the DoD.

She nodded. "I have and Dr. Shroeder said that I have PTS in response to the bombing. The nightmares and anger are symptoms."

Her looked at her curiously. "It's not PTSD?"

She shook her head. "It's too early to tell. She said if the symptoms get worse or develop new ones, it would more than likely develop into PTSD. There's a fifty fifty chance that won't happen."

"Have you spoken to Tim about this?"

"I haven't yet. Just my family. Do you have any experience with this?"

Tony narrowed his eyes in thought. "If you mean personal experience, then kinda. I was treated for PTS a few years ago when we came home from Somalia because I had been dosed with truth serum. Trust me, it was not fun."

"What happened afterwards?" She reached across the table to hold his hand.

"As protocol, we are all given psych evaluations before returning to work. As always, I fooled the doctors. I knew I wasn't okay, but I went to work anyway. I went about my life as normal as I could, but I wasn't sleeping. I looked like a freaking zombie I had lost so much weight. Abby and Ducky were pestering me trying to get me to talk, but I wouldn't budge. One night the nightmares got to be too much."

Delilah had robbed him of some of his fries and was munching on them. "What did you do?"

"I went to Gibbs."

Her eyes went wide. "Why would you go to see Gibbs?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, considering it was 0200 and I was desperate at the time. He was the most logical choice because A) he doesn't sleep and B) he wasn't in the camp and didn't know what went down."

"Where the hell was he?"

He smirked. "About 600 yards away, waiting for the signal to shoot."

"Wow. That must have been helluva shot."

"Actually It wasn't. His record is even further than that."

She tapped the table with a manicured nail. "So how did he help you?"

"The amazing thing about Gibbs is that he doesn't have to say a thing. When I got down to the basement, I sat in my usual spot and watched him work on something. It just started coming out. My feelings, the details of the nightmares, everything. I hate to admit this, but I actually cried. Gibbs had to calm me down so I wouldn't hyperventilate." He would tell Delilah this, but he would never tell her about the hot and sweaty sex that happened afterward.

"That was sweet of him."

"Gibbs isn't sweet. I can guarantee you that. Got a question."

"Shoot." Her eyes curious.

"You mentioned snapping at McGee. Was it something he said or just random?"

She grimaced. "That was one of the things I needed your advice about. Tim wanted me to move in with him since my apartment building doesn't have an elevator. I was just offered a position Dubai."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. So it's a promotion and I would be gone for a year at least."

"So you're taking the position not just because of Tim but because of distancing yourself from the initial trauma?"

"Yep. So what do I do?"

"Have you actually talked to him about this?"

"Not yet. I wanted your opinion."

He propped his head up on his hand thinking. "Well there are several pros and cons to this. You could be hurting your relationship by moving so far away or you could have the peace you deserve. I would suggest talking to Tim first then see where it goes."

She unlocked her chair and rolled over to him. She gave him a big hug. "Thank you so much for the advice, Tony."

He hugged her back. "Your welcome. If you want to know where he is, Gibbs let us out early so he should be at home."

"Ok. Thanks again, Tony."

"Anytime. Good luck in Dubai."

He watched her wheel away through the side entrance. He hoped that the Probie and Delilah got through this rough patch or he'd never hear the end of it. She had also given him a lot to think about in his own life.

He had already finished his burger and fries so he sipped his beer til it was gone. The waitress had given him the bill while he was talking to Delilah so he left a tip and went to pay the bill.

He walked through the front entrance of the pub and turned right. He walked the 15 minutes back to his apartment. His household chores could wait. He had some research to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Home Sweet Home. This is what Tony thought as he unlocked the door to his apartment. It was 9:30 and he was thankful that he had the presence of mind to leave the lamp on in the living room so he could see on nights like this. Taking off his suit jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door, he turns around and secures the door with a deadbolt and chain lock. You can never be too careful.

Tony's apartment itself isn't too shabby for a bachelor pad. The walls are painted a rich cream color all over the apartment. The living room is furnished with a soft leather couch and flat screen tv, both he had paid good money for. The walls of the living room are adorned with shelves of neatly stacked and shelved DVD cases, giving truth to the rumors that he definitely loved movies. There were also CD cases next to the stereo system that also had small speakers installed throughout the apartment controlled by his iPhone so he could listen to music wherever he wanted.

His most prized possession was the baby grand piano that was displayed between the living room and the kitchen next to the gas fireplace. It was his first purchase with his first paycheck after becoming a police officer. He got it for five hundred bucks and he wouldn't trade it for the world. Well, maybe for one of Jethro's steaks.

He toed off his Armani shoes and placed them on the rack under the coat rack. Next was his Sig, his backup, and his badge that he placed in a beautiful lockbox made from cherry wood by You Know Who.

His keys went into the glass bowl by his fishbowl along with the change in his pocket, his knife and his inhaler.

He undid the silver and black Zegna tie around his neck while he greeted both of his fish, Kate and Ziva. He dropped some fish food into the bowl and watched them swim around trying to out beat the other at eating the most.

As he walked into the kitchen, he slipped his phone out of his pocket and tapped the app for the stereo. It turns on in the living room and clicks a button for a mixed CD he had made a couple of years ago. Red starts playing, "Let It Burn". This type of music was easier on his ears unlike the stuff Abby likes to play in her lab.

He hums along with the song as it plays from the speakers in the kitchen. The kitchen itself is stylish for a man like Tony. The appliances are all state of the art and stainless steel. The island in the center has a top made from dark marble and brings a stunning contrast to the rest of the room's cream walls.

Tony opens the fridge and takes out a container of roast beef and potatoes he had cooked yesterday for his dinner today, or as Jethro would say "supper".

After placing the bowl in the microwave to heat, he walks into the bedroom on the far side of the apartment. This is his most sacred space. And only one person has ever been in it. The apartment itself is like a sanctuary for Tony. When the FBI had arrested him for murder that one time, he knew they had searched his apartment. It was on the upper west side of Anacostia. He is ever so thankful that he got rid of that apartment after being Agent Afloat. Tony just couldn't stay there. He had found this one at a reasonable rate for his salary. The neighbors are nice and don't disturb him. The landlord is fair and the boiler doesn't blow up. At this apartment complex he is only known by his first name and never has any guests over. Every once in while a certain silver haired man would be spotted spending the night and leaving the next morning.

Tony's bedroom is lit by lamps on the bedside tables made of mahogany. This room was the largest in the apartment. In the center was a king sized bed covered in 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets and a plush duvet that kept him warm at night.

Walking through the room, he places the tie and his belt on the dresser next to his cologne, the only kind Jethro can stand without sneezing. The shirt comes off revealing a lightly furred chest and six pack abs. The slacks are put in a cleaner bag so they along with the rest of Tony's suits could go to the cleaners next week. Now only in his dress socks and Jockey boxer briefs, he goes into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

He lets the water heat up while finishes stripping. The socks and briefs are shot into the laundry basket like basketballs and Tony is left naked. The little happy trail leads to neatly trimmed pubic hair and an average sized cut cock with hairless balls.

Tony stands in front of the mirror above the sink and opens the medicine cabinet. Inside are the usual deodorant, electric shaver, band aids, another inhaler, and aftershave. He takes out a small case and pops out his contact lenses. Most people don't realize that he uses contacts to read computer screens all day. He used to wear reading glasses at work, but when Kate started at NCIS he stopped.

He runs his hands through his hair and stretches his muscles from a long day at work. He inspects his appearance in the mirror like any other guy and comes to the conclusion that he's a little hairy for a former athlete.

He smirked. He could fix that. And Jethro would probably enjoy it as well.

What would have been a ten minute shower turned into a thirty minute shower as Tony removed every hair from his body and made sure he was squeaky clean inside and out. Now hairless, he made sure to use some lotion so his skin wouldn't be irritated in the morning. He decided that he would shave before heading over to Jethro's and slipped into some soft cotton boxers and t-shirt. He found his bathrobe on the hook on the back of the door and put it on before heading to the kitchen to eat his dinner.

The music by now had changed to some Evanescence, but Tony didn't notice. It was just background noise.

He sat down at the dining room table for four and pondered what he was going to research and how he was going to do it.

Tony owned two different laptops. Only one is seen in the apartment and used for work purposes. It has connections to the NCIS mainframe and he could actually type his reports from home and send them in if he wanted. He just chooses not to.

The second laptop is locked in a drawer in the oak wood desk in the living room where he balances his checkbook and does his taxes. It is a secure laptop with no connection to NCIS whatsoever. On it is his medical history, copies of his life insurance policy, his retirement and mutual funds, and his finances, and a list of informants that he has used over the years along with their phone numbers, addresses, and aliases. Of course there are paper copies of everything in a safety deposit box in DC, but if anyone wanted the information bad enough, this is what they would go for first.

He figures that the secure private laptop was best, because if McGee were ever there, he would easily crack the password for the work computer and access everything he had looked at. Which he wouldn't find much.

After the dishwasher was started, Tony went to the desk and unlocked it and grabbed the laptop along with his reading glasses. He poured a glass of white wine from the kitchen and settled down on the couch. He turned the music off so he could concentrate.

Once the laptop was on and logged in, the first resource to use was Google.

 _Post Traumatic Stress Disorder_

Click.

Wow.

Fifteen million hits. Must be more common now then it was over a decade ago.

 _PTSD: an anxiety disorder that occurs after experiencing or witnessing one or more traumatic event.*_

Tony bypassed the usual WebMD and Mayo Clinic crap on the internet and found a list provided by Google off to the side of symptoms and began to take note.

 _Most common symptoms are: flashbacks, nightmares, and anxiety._

 _Some people experience:_

 _ **Mood:**_ _anger, general discontent, guilt, hopelessness, inability to feel pleasure, loneliness, loss of interest, nervousness, or emotional distress_

 _ **Behavioral:**_ _aggression, agitation, hostility, hypervigilance, irritability, screaming, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, or social isolation_

 _ **Psychological:**_ _depression, fear, flashback, hallucination, panic attack, severe anxiety, or mistrust_

 _ **Sleep:**_ _insomnia, night terror, nightmares, or sleep deprivation_

 _ **Cognitive:**_ _thoughts of suicide or unwanted thoughts_

 _ **Whole body:**_ _acute stress or blackout_

 _ **Also common:**_ _emotional detachment, headache, or lack of emotional response_

He went on to read about how PTSD can happen such as by experiencing war and sexual assault, but when he read "losing a loved one", he couldn't take it anymore.

He put his reading glasses on the coffee table, placed his head in his hands, and let the tears come.

He whispered brokenly, "Oh, Jethro."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wow, it's been a while hasn't it? Don't worry peeps, the story will progress as planned. Just not as often as I hoped. As I was outlining chapter 4 I got hit with a bunny bomb. It was a big one. It gave me the idea that I should write a series of prequels around the events listed in chapter 2 and how Jethro and Tony's relationship went from friendship to romantic friendship and then on to a full blown relationship. There is such a thing as romantic friendship. It means an intimate non-sexual friendship.

I also have plans for a sequel. Since Season 13 is upon us, I decided to wait until a few episodes aired before making an outline. But I can say I'll put a unique twist on the events of the Season 12 finale. I read that there will be tension between Jethro and Tony throughout the season. Canonized UST?

If anyone has seen the sneak peeks for 13x01, then you'll see the Tibbs moment in the first one. I squeed...loudly.

For the prequels, my darling readers, I give you the power to name a few episodes besides the events in chapter 2 for me to write. Which episodes do you think have had a significant impact on Jethro and Tony?

On with the story, ShadowWolf

* * *

Paperwork. The story of his life. Goddamn paperwork. As a team lead, Jethro had to go through thousands of pages a month. The price he had to pay for the position he coveted. There were case reports, performance reviews, budget meetings, and other administrative crap he had to go through just to get anything done necessary for his team to be out in the field. He could also do the requisition forms as well but passed them off on Tony in his first six months at NCIS to take a load off his shoulders. It also came in handy for the SFA to sweet talk the secretaries and admin workers male and female into giving the MCRT anything they wanted. The only ones they could never sway were in HR, where most of the paperwork comes from.

After compiling the finished case reports and files, about a couple of inches thick, Jethro walked them personally to Vance's office. When he got to Cynthia's desk, he noticed that the laid back secretary was gone for the day. More then likely Vance was too. Oh well, he could fix that. Taking out his lockpicks, it took less than ten seconds to open the door. He made his way into the office, tossed the case file on the desk, and walked right back out; all without making a sound, like a ghost.

He was tired. Tired and ready to go home, put his feet up, and relax with an ice cold beer. He knew he wouldn't be seeing Tony tonight, cause he found the note his lover left him in his paperwork. So he had the house all to himself. It's not that Jethro didn't want Tony to live with him. It was more convenient to have their own space...and safer, just in case.

Jethro grabbed his SIG, badge, and gear from his desk. His computers had been shut down, probably by Tony before the rest of the team left. Jethro switched his lamp off, bathing the bullpen in darkness. He used the elevator to get to the parking garage because he could feel his left knee tightening up again. No one had ever realized that Jethro actually walked with a limp. It wasn't noticeable unless he was exhausted or not wearing his lightweight flexible brace that couldn't be seen under his slacks.

He slowly made his way to his car. The yellow Challenger was his baby and he wouldn't trade it for anything. He still couldn't believe Jack had it fixed up for him just the way he wanted it. The most unique feature of the car was the engine; it roared and purred like a cat. It was a smooth ride too.

It only took a few minutes of driving to get to his house. The three story Craftsman home was the most quiet on his street. It was the only one that had trees in the front and backyards. The exterior was painted a muted gray with blue shutters and a red door. It was also the only house with a white picket fence. Jethro didn't know who his neighbors were anymore. When he and Shannon had first moved in. the neighbors were friendly and she was in tune to the neighborhood gossip. Now they've either moved away, died or don't bother getting to know him. The job prevented him from socializing, like he ever did any. He was probably the only one who had lived on his street the longest.

After parking in his driveway in front of his truck, he noticed a familiar SUV parked in front of his house next to the sidewalk. He groaned. 'What the hell is he doing here?'

He couldn't deal with this shit right now. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number from memory.

It rang three times before it was picked up.

"Sup," a young feminine voice said once the call connected.

Jethro involuntary smiled. Emily Fornell was his unofficial goddaughter via Tobias and his first ex wife Diane. He loved that girl since the first time he had held her and had made a promise to always care for her and protect her, even when her father couldn't.

"Baby girl, what da hell is ya Daddy doin' here?" Jethro was so tired that he didn't even realize his accent had slipped through.

Unfortunately, Emily had heard it.

"Crap, not again," she muttered. When her Uncle Gibbs used his accent it usually meant he was relaxed, pissed, or tired. She didn't hear it that often so she went with option number two.

She looked over at her best friend, Cassie Monroe. Emily was at a sleepover at her house for the holiday weekend so she could get away from her mom. She could be so infuriating sometimes, especially when she was ranting about all three of her ex husbands. Emily doesn't see her dad a lot because he goes undercover for long periods of time. She wished that they would get back together so that they could stop complaining and at least act like a family. She also wished that she could spend more time at her Papa's house.

Emily only called her Uncle Gibbs Papa when her parents weren't present. She knew they wouldn't be happy with that. Besides, she loved her Papa. He had practically raised her from the time she was six months on.

Her parents had hit a snag in their marriage and were looking towards divorce. The last straw was when her dad had dropped her off at Papa's house without any explanation because he was in a hurry to get somewhere. When her Papa had realized that they weren't putting all of their focus on her, he had kept her with him and gave her all of the love and attention that she wasn't getting from her parents.

For a big gruff quiet and unemotional Marine, he gave the best hugs and cuddles like a teddy bear. Still does.

She can only imagine what her dad was doing at her Papa's house this time. She could tell it was unexpected and that Papa had just gotten home from work considering how late it was.

"Who is it, Em?" asked Cassie.

Emily covered her phone with her hand. "You remember Papa, right?"

Cassie's face scrunched up in thought. "Yeah, you said he was an agent like your dad."

Emily nodded. "He is, but he works for a different agency. I have to take this. Do you mind?" She lifted up her phone.

"No go on ahead. I can pause the movie."

"Thanks." Emily went into the adjoining bathroom and locked the door. "Papa, I am so sorry. I had no idea he would go over there tonight."

She heard a sigh over the phone then his deep voice rumbled in her ear. "'S ok, baby. Not yer fault. Any idea why?"

She thought long and hard. The usual reasons probably wouldn't apply to this situation. "He might have gotten in a fight with Mom again."

A huff was heard. "Typical." A pause. "If he's drunk, I'll let 'im stay. No promises."

She relaxed. Her Papa would fix this. He always came through for her no matter what.

"Thanks, Papa. I owe you one."

A soft chuckle. "No problem, sweetheart. Girls day with Amira?"

Emily grinned and fist pumped the air. "Totally. Can't wait." Girls day with Amira and Papa was the best.

"Can we bring Tony and Kayla this time?"

A laugh. "If you ask nicely 'm sure he'd love ta join us. Have to ask Vance too."

"Love you, Papa."

"Love ya too, baby. Sweet dreams."

Click.

Emily went back to Cassie and the movie. Cassie looked at her in concern. "Everything alright?"

Emily sighed while munching on popcorn. "Situation is under control."

If it wasn't, she had Tony on speed dial.

* * *

A/N: May be awhile for the next chapter. Keep the reviews comin' peeps!

ShadowWolf


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm back! This chapter was a little hard for me to write. Kept getting roadblocked. I had to take some time away from writing so I could do this story justice. Let's hope it worked.

This chapter is for BobDog54 who has been waiting so patiently for this little piece of fic and for the-tibbs-experience for giving great feedback. Enjoy!

* * *

Jethro put the phone back in his pocket. If Tobias had gotten into a fight with their ex wife again, he'd probably gotten drunk afterwards. Tobias was a lightweight and an emotional drunk. It didn't take much for him to become a blubbering mess.

Jethro grabbed his gear and in an uncharacteristic move, he went in the house through the side door into the kitchen.

He smelled spices so Tobias had been cooking again. The man was an eighth Italian and he still couldn't cook worth a damn. Tony's Italian cuisine was way better.

The stove was off which was a godsend. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the fire department. Again.

The dining table was set for two and beers had been set out. As if Tobias was using food as a peace offering for something he did to offend him or God forbid needed from him. He didn't want to think about the setup as reflecting that of a romantic dinner. Hell no.

Tobias was in the living room fooling with something and hadn't even noticed that Gibbs was there.

He smirked. He quietly walked up to the unsuspecting man and blew into his ear.

"Tobias."

It gave Jethro great pleasure to see the Feeb jump that high.

Fornell whirled around. "Jesus, Gibbs! Warn someone next time."

Jethro just stared at him. That blank emotionless stare that prevented anyone from reading him.

"Ya gon' tell me what da hell ya doin' here, 'bias?"

Fornell just sputtered. "What?! Can't a friend have dinner with a friend?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Nah." He walked over to the front door. His gear was set on the floor next to the shoe rack for an easier morning. Shoes were slipped off and straightened to Marine perfection under the side table. Keys went into the ceramic bowl and wallet placed next to it. Gun then went into the secure lockbox on the third shelf of the bookcase to the right of the fireplace. He turned back around. "Well? Ya gon' say somethin' or jus' stand der all nigh'?"

* * *

Tony didn't know how long he had sat on his couch and cried, weeping for the man he loved. It could have been hours. It could have been days. In the end it didn't matter because it wouldn't have made a goddamn difference.

Finally the tears had stopped falling, leaving the incredible urge to rush over to Jethro's house and give him the biggest bear hug of his life. But he didn't give in. He had to look at the situation and then plan an effective approach.

PTSD. One four letter acronym that changes everything. Tony didn't know what to do. Should he ask Jethro about it or just not say anything at all?

While he pondered this Tony had turned his stereo system off and refilled his glass of wine. He curled his legs under his body on the couch and listened to the silence.

It all made sense to him now. At least on the surface, that is. Looking back over their thirteen years of working together and then getting involved, Tony realized that there were some aspects to Jethro that he had failed to put together. All of those puzzle pieces thought of as quirks that could be explained away were brought to the forefront.

Tony for years had been observing people and their body language. It came in handy when interrogating suspects and interviewing witnesses. He also observed his work colleagues. He didn't mean to do it, it was just a habit based on life and experience. He had definitely gotten better at it since Danny.

He had made it an art form when observing Jethro. He could always tell when Jethro was tired, angry, or even in pain. How could he have missed this? After rereading the symptoms of PTSD, he sat back on the couch with his eyes closed.

At NCIS, the MCRT had taken on all kinds of cases over the years. So it wouldn't be surprising if they had come across a sailor or Marine with PTSD.

Tony flipped through his memories like rewinding a movie. Trying to find what he needed. When he did, he pressed play.

Corporal Ernie Yost. Tony had always suspected that Gibbs had treated that case with kid gloves because of personal experience, which later was proven correct. He remembered Jethro talking to Ducky about survivor's guilt and that Yost's delusions didn't start until his wife had died a couple of weeks prior.

He had known about Shannon and Kelly from the very beginning. He had just come out of a disastrous partnership and he really didn't want to take the same road with the Navy Guy. So he did a background check. Since he wasn't working for the agency yet, he couldn't get his military records, just the personnel file. There had been a case number linked to Gibbs in the very back of the file from the year before he had joined NIS. Tony had clicked on the link and suddenly wished he hadn't. This was how he had found out about Stillwater, but he hadn't known about Jackson.

Tony knew that Jethro was still hurting some over his girls' deaths. When the explosion had taken fifteen years of his memories, the older man was forced to confront his grief in such a short amount of time and for a second time. Tony never blamed Jethro for leaving. He knew his Marine would be back, not exactly whole, but home.

But he sure as hell didn't like the way Jethro was treated while in the hospital, he thought darkly, causing a low growl to erupt from his throat. Oh yes, a lot of asses had gotten chewed out the day after Jethro left. The first was Madame Bitch. She had no right to dig through any file pertaining to Gibbs, which he should add were labeled in red ink as Top Secret and Classified. Well technically as the Director she could but she shouldn't have gotten further than the first page in his personnel file. It was literally written in bold print. Then she had the audacity to tell Ducky about the girls and how they had died. Tony had made sure that the files were sealed and closed, but he guessed she just had to stick her nose where it didn't belong. He had later found out about how she had blatantly told everyone on the team because Abby came crying to him after she found out. Poor little Goth couldn't handle the fact that the Team Lead already had a favorite. Well, boo hoo! He laid into her and put her in her place. He had also given her strict instructions never to talk about the girls with anyone. She shut up really quick and had only stayed quiet for a few years until Jethro later told him about how she had come into his basement and asked him if he saw her as a daughter.

Tony really didn't have to worry about Probie on that front. Poor kid was in shock at the time and didn't ask questions. Now Ducky, Tony could have cared less about his rumpled feathers, but he had some strong language with him after witnessing the Scot's resentment and anger towards the Marine after his inevitable return. Ducky didn't need to know anything about Jethro's life pre-NIS. Jethro had approached Tony after Ducky had been particularly hostile towards him at a crime scene and asked him what the hell his problem was. All the younger man said was with a shit eating grin:

"I'll take care of it."

Tony hadn't had to worry about Little Miss Mossad because he knew Jethro had threatened her around the time Ari had killed Kate. Getting back to Madam Bitch.

Tony had spent several days cleaning up the mess from the Cape Fear debacle. He had to debrief SECNAV, SECDEF, and other top brass as the current Team Lead. He had also requested a private audience with Secretary Rice herself. This was because he had found out about the lack of protocol and bullying by the Director to gain access to the trauma ward at Portsmouth Naval Hospital along with Abby. And she had done it with the Secretary's help. After the enlightening conversation detailing what went down and why (the bitch wanted to get in his Marine's pants), she had said that she would look into it. He had replied that was all he asked for.

A couple of days later the Director was suspended; the Chief of Naval Operations was fired; the Seal Commander who had believed Gibbs was given a commendation; Dr. Captain Todd Gelfund was forced to resign his Naval commission and his license to practice medicine was under review (he had violated HIPPA laws regarding giving out information on Jethro to Shepard and Mallard and had not even spoken to the next of kin AKA Tony). Nineteen letters had been sent by the President to the families of those who had died explaining why their loved one was dead.

The Senior Field Agent as Jethro's Power of Attorney had received in the mail a nice settlement on his boss's behalf. And had donated it all in Jethro's name to the VFW and Veteran's Home in Arlington. Let's just say they were very happy with the unexpected donation.

Tony was pulled out of his memories of that dreadful time. He walked into the kitchen and decided to help himself to another serving of food and refilled his glass of wine.

He couldn't have imagined how his Marine had felt at the time in '91. No sense of purpose. No one to welcome him home. No one to love. No one to love him in return. Checking over the symptoms, it wouldn't surprise the Italian if Jethro had nightmares or night terrors. Stress and unresolved guilt can manifest into those same nightmares that warp happy memories into something terrible. It could possibly lead to insomnia because he knows Jethro doesn't sleep a whole lot. He mostly works in the basement and rests on the couch, never getting any true sleep. They haven't ever really slept in the same bed after making love in what he knows is the guest room. Now that Tony knows the possible truth, it brings to the sad conclusion that something must have happened during a night terror and a partner had gotten hurt. Well, maybe after they talked they'd be able to work on sleeping in the same bed.

Tony was also worried about the physical aspects of the stress and other issues from a Sports Medicine point of view. Being the number three man on the totem pole at NCIS, there is a lot of shit Jethro has to go through to make sure the agency is running smoothly. There is the pressure from the higher ups, the pressure of deadlines, the anticipation of running ops in MTAC, meetings at the Pentagon, and the list goes on. The younger man knows that his Marine has the most trouble with his left knee since it was almost torn to pieces in Kuwait. He thinks there are still some shrapnel fragments in the knee and that Jethro has a card issued by the Corps stating that he can go through airport security without going through the metal detector. Lucky bastard.

There's the scar tissue from various wounds on Gibbs's body from over the years. Everything from GSWs, stabbings, blunt instruments courtesy of ex wives, and burns.

He knows that Jethro doesn't take pain killers, absolutely refuses to take them. The older man had once mentioned his mother had committed suicide so it was probably because of an overdose. He only allows grunt candy and some sort of liniment that can be found only at feed stores. He was probably afraid of getting caught in the nightmares and having no way out.

Despite having been hurt so many times, the man could still hold some heat behind a punch or throw. Tony knew how strong Gibbs was physically because he had seen him take down Marines half his age. When the team had to find Corporal Damon Werth after escaping the Psych Ward at Bethesda and eventually locating him at the rehab center where one of his men was, Tony remembered that Jethro started to form a shaky bond of trust when Werth had been found. The Gunny had to get through to him on a Marine level and order him to obey, make him recognize the Alpha in the room. Because Jethro didn't want to scare everyone in the room with his version of fighting if it came down to that. It would have gotten messy. But little Probies never learn.

Tony shook his head. McGee was so stupid in that moment even after Gibbs had ordered the team to back off. He knew what he was doing and had gotten the Corporal to hand over the gun. McGoodyTwoShoes was probably trying to score brownie points with the Boss and it backfired. Tim had gotten a dislocated shoulder and a reprimand in his file, his Marine had gotten pushed over a table, Ziva had a black eye, and the Senior Field Agent wound up with a broken nose along with the wrong prescription of pain killers. Only Jethro knew the effects certain narcotics had on him and that ranged from emotional, depressed to anger. But if given the right meds, the younger man would get horny every time.

When their day was done and Tony had come down from his high, Jethro gave him the correct dosage and had to cuff him to the bed to keep him from humping the Marine's leg like a dog.

Tony flushed and his cock twitched just thinking about it.

Ok, he really didn't need to be thinking about that right now. Playtime will be later.

Tony wondered of the all powerful Google knew how to help someone like Jethro. A couple clicks later and bingo. HelpGuide. PTSD in Military Veterans: Symptoms, Treatment, and Self Help.

A lot of the stuff on the webpage the younger man would have to go over with his lover and see if any of it will help. He scrolled to the bottom of the page and blinked. _Here we go._

Helping a Veteran with PTSD:

1) Don't take the symptoms personally.

2) Don't pressure your loved one into talking.

3) Be patient and understanding.

4) Try to anticipate and prepare for PTSD triggers.

5) Take care of yourself.

This list was perfect. Number two caught his attention though. After reading the caption underneath, it made sense. Someone like Jethro would hate to be pressured into talking about stuff, especially feelings. Tony had noticed several times people like Ducky or Abby suggesting that Gibbs talk to them, but his stubborn Marine would just shake his head and walk away.

Tony guessed that his version of making Jethro talk was easier and safer for everyone. All he had to do was wait it out and let the Marine come to him. And that's when it hit him. He'd been helping Jethro this entire time.

Why didn't he think of it sooner?! Ugh. He gave himself a headslap. Not as good as the original, but it'll have to do.

It made perfect sense. Ever since Tony met Jethro there had been some sort of subconscious entity about their relationship. Like when Gibbs would get angry, Tony would play the goofball to draw attention from everyone else and make him relax. He gave the beast his coffee every morning so he'd be properly caffeinated when he went to see Vance for the morning meetings. And the list just went on.

He looked at the clock on his laptop. Just hitting midnight. He hurried to grab a writing pad and a pen. He had a list of things to do to make Jethro's weekend as relaxing as possible.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at Casa de Gibbs...

Jethro was getting frustrated at his so called friend. The Feeb had his mouth open like a fish and if he didn't close it soon and start talking he was going to have to get drastic and kick him out on his ass.

The six foot (six foot two in combat boots), two hundred and twenty pound Marine got in the FBI Agent's face. Well, as close to his face as he could without bending down as the scrawny man was about five inches shorter than him.

"I ain't gon' say it again. What are ya doin' here?" he breathed in his face.

Fornell blinked up at him, trying not to lean back or take a step back. "Well, you see..."

"Is it Diane?"

"What?"

Jethro huffed, "Don' play stupid. I' don' look good on ya."

Fornell snorted, "Well, how would you know it was about Diane?"

The silver haired agent spoke while he walked over to the closet by the front door. "First, I married the heifer. Second, I called yer daughter as soon as I came home." He shed his coat, leaving him wearing a long sleeved hunter green polo.

"She tinks yer fightn' again."

Fornell looked sheepish for a moment and winced. "We may have had a disagreement before I left yesterday afternoon. Look, it's not my fault. All I wanted was to spend some quality time with my family for the holiday. It's been three months since all three of us have been together in the same house. Then she tells me she had a spa trip planned and Emily's at a sleepover..."

"Hey! I know fo' a fact dat sleepover was planned 'n advance. And yer wondrin' if ya can what? Have dinner wit me?"

Tobias threw his hands up in exasperation. "Is it so much to ask?"

Jethro just stared at him for a minute then casually took the stairs up to the second floor, trying not to groan at the shooting pain in his lower joints, especially that damn knee. He hollered back down, "Yes, now get!"

Tobias snorted, "Fucking bastard." He packed up his shit and left.

By the time Jethro made it to the master bedroom, he was limping pretty badly. He had to hold on to the wall to keep his balance as he struggled to get to the ensuite bathroom. Standing for too long had caused the knee to swell up and cause shooting pains when he put weight on it. Sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi tub, he stripped down to his boxers and painstakingly took off the lightweight brace.

"Aw, shit." he muttered.

The knee was definitely swollen, the skin on the area warm to the touch. He leaned back and turned on the faucet, getting the water as hot as he could stand. He shimmied out of his boxers and slid into the welcoming heat with a sigh of relief.

After soaking in the tub for at least half an hour, Jethro struggled to get out of the warm water. He was sleepy and tired, muscles near jelly. He was alert enough to succeed and halfheartedly dried off.

He had already given up on the notion of going down stairs to sleep on the couch. So he grabbed an ace bandage from his nightstand and wrapped his knee at tight as he dared. He didn't bother with clothes and slid bare under the covers with a soft sigh. After positioning a pillow between his legs, Jethro got comfortable and prayed for Morpheus to take him this time.

* * *

Hope this chapter is satisfactory. After watching the season finale, I was so hoping that more Tibbs fics would be posted. Where are the Tibbs shippers?! O.O It might be awhile before I can post again because RL can be a bitch. Spelling errors are made on purpose, so sorry if it's hard to read. Thanks for waiting patiently!

ShadowWolf's Fables


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Gonna try to make the update go faster guys! Kinda been obsessed with some recent works over on AO3. Hop on over and check it out! Lots of Tibbs stuff over there.

* * *

The forecast had called for sunny skies and little to no clouds. But when Tony had woken up the next morning, the sky was slightly dark and promised nasty things later on in the day.

"Stupid meteorologists," he muttered, "Just use Jethro's joints."

He checked his alarm and found that it was early, but not Gibbs early. It was only 0700 and if he was going to finish his holiday prep for Jethro, then he had to get moving.

Tony climbed out of bed bare ass naked with blue balls and the hard on from hell. But he didn't dare touch his cock. He hopped in the shower and switched on the faucet. Ice cold water shot out and Tony yelped. Yep, the hard on went down pretty quickly. Since his cock was now limp, his bladder was knocking to relieve the pressure. He didn't see the sense of wasting water flushing the toilet.

He shrugged his shoulders. Eh, who's going to know?

Tony spread his legs a little bit and let a rip. He moaned as the wine and beer he drank last night made it's way out of his system down the shower drain. He was surprised that he didn't have that bad of a hangover.

The younger agent lathered up some of his favorite body wash and washed away the grime that appeared during the night. He had a list of calls to make to see if he could borrow that cabin he remembered a buddy having. It was just convenient that he was in Hawaii for a conference this week and wouldn't be back until after the holiday and Tony and Jethro would be back at work.

He hoped his Marine enjoyed his version of pampering. Manly pampering.

He finished quickly and dried off sporadically, leaving damp trails behind on his skin. He picked out his wardrobe and made his call.

After dressing and packing a bag for a few days, Tony made sure he had his inhaler and an epi-pen just in case. He left his apartment at 0830 and headed towards Jethro's house.

* * *

Alexandria, VA 0820

As Tony was getting ready to leave, Jethro was entering a very dark place inside his mind. The sun was peeking through his bedroom window highlighting his lightly sweating facial features. He hadn't moved all night.

 _He didn't know where he was. It was kinda blurry. Some deserted marketplace. It was hot and sandy, but there was no wind. There were no people. He called out._

 _"Hello?" His voice sounded muffled.  
_

 _He felt a presence behind him. He turned._

 _It was a little girl and her back was facing him. He approached her, movements sluggish like walking through quicksand.  
_

 _"Hey, you lost kid?" he yelled.  
_

 _Suddenly, there was no background noise. The little girl turned around. She had stunning red hair and ice blue eyes, mirror images of his own._

 _"Kelly?" He couldn't believe it._

 _"No, Daddy."_

 _Now he was confused. "Kelly... what?"_

 _It was too late, she lifted up an object that he had completely missed in her little hand and then felt an exploding pain in his knee. It felt so real, the pain unimaginable.  
_

His body had seized. He didn't realize he was screaming.

 _His dream self falls to the ground on his knees in a mockery of asking for mercy._

 _"Kelly why?" he whispered.  
_

 _The little blue eyes narrowed. "You're not my Daddy! Daddy would have saved us! You didn't!" And she fired again, this time an exploding pain was felt in his chest._

 _He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. His little angel had just shot him because he couldn't protect his family. Oh God, why!? Why?...  
_

* * *

0856

Tony pulled up in front of the Boss's house like it was business as usual. The neighbors were up, some doing yard work before it got too hot and a few were hitting the road for the holiday weekend. The older residents who stay at home sit on their front porches enjoying the early morning sunshine before the rain comes in. The sky was holding steady so hopefully it would still be that way when Tony got Jethro in the truck.

He grabbed his bag and tossed it into the back of Gibbs' gray pick up and walked into the unlocked house. He stopped.

It was dark. Jethro would have been up and having his third coffee right about now. He went to the basement.

No one there. The light was off, but the sun was peeking through so Tony could tell he hadn't been down there in a few days.

It was unusual. The house was giving off a cold vibe. It shouldn't be that way. There wasn't even the smell of coffee. Something was wrong.

He took the stairs three at a time, clearing each room and coming up empty. Until the last room...the master suite.

Tony had never been in this room and that's saying something. He's stayed in the guest room numerous times over the years and of course they'd had sex in there, but this was different. Foreign.

This was the room where Jethro and Shannon shared their marriage bed.

It felt like he was violating some sacred realm but he put that feeling aside because he heard noises like someone was in distress.

He opened the door...and found something he didn't like.

His Jethro was curled up in an impossible ball for a man his size, back to the door. He was shaking, covered in sweat. Tony rushed over to the bed and flipped Jethro onto his back. He was choking on air and his eyes were screwed shut as if in pain.

"Jethro! Wake up!"

No response.

"Boss!?"

Still no answer.

Ok, desperate times call for desperate measures. "Please forgive me."

Tony raised his hands into one big fist and slammed down onto the middle of Jethro's heaving chest.

The effect was instantaneous. Jethro's back arched and he started gulping in air and coughing. Tony pulled him up and started thumping his back like Jethro had done when he had the plague.

After a couple of minutes of Jethro trying to get his breathing under control, Tony laid him back down on his pillow.

"What happened?" he wheezed.

Tony was running his hand through his lover's short hair and taking his pulse with the other. A little fast, but whose wouldn't if you were about to choke to death on your own air?

"You stopped breathing, Jethro. And you're sweating buckets. It's a good thing I got here or you would have asphyxiated or something. Let's get you in the shower and cleaned up." Tony reached for the blankets.

Jethro jerked them up to his chest. "I don't think that's a good idea, Tony." he whispered.

Tony sighed in frustration, "If you're worried about me seeing your hard on, I've seen it all before..."

Jethro shook his head. "That's not what I'm talking about."

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I just fucking pissed myself like a two year old. Is that what you want to hear?" Jethro said shakily.

The older man closed his eyes in humiliation and when Tony pulled the blankets off, Jethro didn't stop him.

Tony sighed. Jethro was right. There was a big wet spot in the sheets.

"I was going to change your sheets anyway while you showered, since you sweated in them so bad. Let's get you up anyway and I see your knee's been hurting again."

Tony unwrapped Jethro's knee and noticed it was a little red and tender. He got the older man up off the sticky sheets and into the bathroom. Jethro directed towards the tub.

"You want a bath?" Tony asked.

Jethro, who was still embarrassed, nodded a little.

Tony got Jethro sitting on the edge of the tub while he got the water running. He hurried out of the room to take the sheets off the bed and took them down to the laundry room to wash. He got the machine going and went back up to check on Jethro. The water in the tub was full and the older man was getting his body wash ready.

"Sheets are in the wash. I'm going to make the bed and get you some clothes. When the sheets are done I'm going to throw them in the dryer and pack you a bag. We got to leave in a few."

Jethro looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "We got the weekend off."

"I know that, but I thought it would be nice to take you somewhere for a change. So this is me kidnapping you."

Jethro huffed and climbed into the tub with a groan.

Tony left his lover to soak his aching muscles in the tub and got busy. Soon the sheets were changed, and Tony was packing Jethro a bag. Some boxers, socks, hoodie, t-shirts, shorts, and a couple pairs of jeans went into Jethro's seabag. He looked up when the older man shuffled into the bedroom, towel around his waist.

"Bag's packed. Let's get you dressed."

Jethro didn't bother to ask where they were going. He was just too damn tired to care right then. Tony whipped off the towel and got him dressed in boxers, thick socks, Batman PJs, and one of his worn but soft hoodies. He helped Jethro into some soft moccasins and they were ready to go in ten minutes.

"We're taking the truck, so go on and get in. I got to put the sheets in the dryer. We'll stop for coffee on the way."

Jethro grunted, picked up his bag, and went out to the truck. Tony had the sheets in the dryer and made sure that both the back and side doors were locked. He left the reading lamp on dim in the living room and made one last call to Cindy in Dispatch letting her know that both men would be out of town and incommunicado until at least Tuesday.

The younger man closed the front door and jogged out to the gray pick up. He got in and cranked the old engine. After buckling his seatbelt, he turned to look at Jethro. He smiled softly as he realized the older man had fallen asleep after getting in. His head was leaning on the window and his mouth was open emitting soft snores. His facial features were relaxed and hopefully his dreams were nightmare free. Tony made sure the older man was buckled in and that the passenger window was locked. He slipped his sunglasses on and headed out of the driveway.

By 1030, both agents were driving out of the Alexandria city limits.

* * *

Y'all hear about the new agent NCIS hired?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Wow, it's kinda been a while, huh? Oops. I'm gonna try to update when I can, no guarantees.

* * *

Luckily for both men, the rain had decided to hold off for a little while longer until they could make it to the cabin. It was still dark out, rain was threatening to pour down hard.

Tony had pulled the truck into the parking lot of a small general store about an hour from their destination. They needed supplies and groceries to make it through the weekend. Jethro had barely moved since leaving Alexandria and even though his sleep was deep, there were thankfully no current nightmares. Tony knew well how much energy is lost while in the midst of one and Jethro had to be exhausted. There were smudges of dark circles underneath his eyes and his eyes weren't their usual brightness. Hopefully this weekend can put a small dent in the man's weariness.

Tony turned the truck off and wasn't surprised when Jethro's eyes popped open. The man may be now alert, but he wasn't aware. "We dare 'et?" he slurred.

Tony carefully placed his hand on the man's arm and slowly rubbed up and down in calm and even strokes. "We got about an hour to go. Need to get some food and coffee first. Go on back to sleep. I'll only be a few minutes."

Jethro nodded and laid his head back on the window and promptly went back to sleep but not before sighing, "Coffee."

Tony smiled at the automatic response even though his lover couldn't see it. He got out of the truck and shut the door quietly and made his way into the store.

* * *

How much food does it take to feed a lion? Or in this case, a Marine with a caffeine addiction, thought Tony. He was cruising the meat department, looking for the best cuts of meats for his lover. They were only going to be at the cabin for at least four days. He picked up some sausage, bacon, a couple of T-bones, and some ground beef along with some skinless chicken breasts. Tony knew Jethro ate a lot ever since he began working with the man. He didn't know if it was left over from his Marine days or some subconscious feeling of refusing to go hungry like he had better eat while he could because you never knew when food would be scarce or gone. Tony knew his lover didn't have much growing up before Jackson opened the store. The Gibbs' were probably forced to go without for a little while. Anyway, it must be the Italian half of him that was coming out because he sure as hell was making sure his lion was fed and pampered.

Making a last stop to get coffee for the beast, Tony paid for the groceries and put them in the back of the truck in the portable cooler that was strapped down in the truck bed. He got in and saw that Jethro was still sleeping. The man was going to have a crick in his neck before long that he was going to have to massage out before it turned into a migraine.

Tony popped the top on the coffee and set it in the cup holder, letting the scent permeate the interior of the old truck. He watched as the older man's nose twitched a couple times before he took a deep inhale then exhale before twisting his body around and facing Tony with the side of his head in the backrest and fell into an even deeper sleep.

The younger man raised a brow at that. Apparently the Marine was comfortable enough to feel safe in his presence. Of course, it was helped along by the coffee scent. Can't forget about that.

He shook his head and started the truck. About thirty miles to go.

* * *

The cabin itself wasn't extravagant. It's what's inside that mattered for their little vacation. A little over twelve hundred square feet, two bath, two bedrooms, kitchen, living room, fireplace, and a patio that led to the small bass pond in the back. Cable TV for Tony to enjoy his movies and whatnot.

The younger man had actually picked this place for Jethro to relax in and release some of the tension that had been building up since Jackson had passed a few months prior. Tony could tell that his lover was a little depressed, not like he would ever say anything. That's not the Gibbs way.

So after getting him nice and relaxed, Tony was hoping that the older man would be more forthcoming in conversation. If that didn't work, they could always have sex. Lots of it.

Tony's frat brother, Brian Mackenzie, actually went to the University of Wisconsin but was in the some fraternity. They had met by accident through a friend of another brother at a Christmas party in Chicago. Tony had just graduated from the Academy and Brian had received his Master's in Business and was working for an investment firm at the time. They had kept in touch and Brian had actually helped Tony invest some stocks and build up his portfolio.

About a year before Tony met Gibbs in Baltimore, Brian had been in a car accident with his wife and six year old son. His wife had gotten cuts and scrapes while their son had a minor concussion. Brian was driving when a semi had hit them from the driver's side when the truck's brakes malfunctioned. Brian wound up partially paralyzed on his left side from the waist down with a few cracked ribs. He underwent intensive therapy just to be able to use his leg again.

Brian had the cabin built just for his outpatient therapy. He didn't want to burden his wife with the struggle of caring for him 24/7 until he healed. He had part of the cabin turned into a workout room fit with weights, treadmill, parallel bars, floor mats, exercise bike, etc. The part that interested Tony the most was the hydrotherapy table. Brian had suffered from muscle spasms in his leg after every workout. He swore to Tony that it had done wonders for him by relieving his body aches.

Tony was hoping to help Jethro relieve his stress by treating his body first. Since stress can cause physical ailments such as joint pain, Jethro may not realize that is why his knee is always killing him. So Tony's thinking was to treat the body then the mind. It may be ass backwards from what traditional therapy might recommend, but he sure as hell was going to try it, consequences be damned.

* * *

A/N 2: I didn't know how this chapter was going to turn out. I had the idea for it, but this was the result. I've been working on this for a couple of months now, so I'm going back to the alphabet for a bit. Enjoy!


End file.
